𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 / 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

ᴄɪɴᴄᴏ

It's about twenty minutes before first period starts and Eddie is already pissed at the day. He throws his books in his locker, pulls out his Government notes and stuffs them in his backpack, and prays to God or whoever that he doesn't have to see Richie until later.

Waking up brought cold, hard reality down on Eddie when he pulled the headphones off his head and let his thoughts wander in a negative direction. He had nightmares all night, and even though he can't remember them he still feels the fear and desperation that choked him awake lingering in his skin. It was already late when he was awake enough to get up and he rushed through his morning routine, power walked all the way to school, and now he's positive his anxiety over running into Richie will kill him for sure.

What is he thinking, hoping the tape means anything more? It's stupid, and foolish, and dangerous. Eddie remembers what happened to Adrian Mellon, and Frank Dixon in their freshman year, followed home and stabbed in the shoulder because he hugged his boyfriend on the front steps of the school. Others have suffered too, and Eddie feels like a complete idiot, daring to entertain any thoughts of Richie and actually being with him.

He slams his locker shut and turns around to head to class. It's a little early but he can't shake the feeling of running behind, and he'd rather be sitting if the anxious squirming in his stomach won't settle down. As Eddie rounds the corner at the end of the hall he keeps his head down, hoping he can make it to the safety of the classroom before running into anyone, even Stan, Mike and Bev. But Satan must be calling the shots today, because he's only about twenty feet or so from the door when none other than Richie catches him by the elbow and stops him.

"Eddie, hey," Richie says breathlessly, stepping in close enough for Eddie to smell the faint mixture of smoke and soap clinging to Richie's shirt- it's the way Richie always smells. "Where were you this morning?"

Eddie doesn't answer right away, too distracted by Richie's grip on his arm, his thumb moving back and forth against the inner bend of his elbow. Eddie shivers, and tells himself to step back and put some distance between them, but his legs ignore him and stay planted where they are. "This morning?" He asks, looking up at Richie steadily.

"Yeah, I went by your house to pick you up but you weren't there." Richie's free hand adjusts his glasses and he blinks at Eddie owlishly. "Is everything okay?"

"Y-Yeah, everything is fine," Eddie lies, gently pulling his arm away from Richie and folding both over his chest. "I woke up late. Just decided to walk here."

Richie looks down at his own hand before letting it fall down at his side. "Oh, okay. So uh, how was your weekend?"

Eddie tells him about going to see his aunts and the extra tasks his mom had him do, all the while hoping that Richie doesn't ask about the tape. The hope and bravery he felt last night has all vanished, and the thought of asking Richie about the songs makes his throat go dry and his hands start to shake.

There's a lull in the conversation as Eddie moves back to let a large group of classmates by and Richie gets closer- much closer. Richie steps toward him and touches his bicep to pull him out of the way and against his side, shooting the loud, pushy guys going by an annoyed look. Eddie makes the mistake of looking up while still so close, just as Richie's eyes drop to his; his insides squirm and his heart beats hard enough to echo through the rest of him. The corner of Richie's mouth lifts in a shy smile, and it's so unlike the smirks he's used to receiving that he almost blurts out exactly what he's thinking- that he wants to grab Richie by his stupid, messy hair and kiss him.

The warning bell rings and Eddie jumps, and just like that the moment has passed.

They part ways and the day starts off at a drag, and the slow ticking of every clock in every classroom only adds to Eddie's growing agitation. Every time he starts to focus his brain detours back to the mix-tape and he's lost, unable to tune back in to the lesson. It's annoying- why is he thinking about the damn tape? He needs to concentrate or he's going to screw up and fail everything, never graduate, and end up a beggar on a street corner with nothing to his name.